


Diamond in the Ruff

by Ericurrr



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Beverly Katz is the Best, Dog Walking AU, Getting Together, GradStudent!Will, Hand Jobs, Hannibal is not a cannibal...or is he?, M/M, Meet-Cute, Oral Sex, Shelter Dogs, Squirrel Matchmakers, SugarDaddy!Hannibal, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 02:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19781800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ericurrr/pseuds/Ericurrr
Summary: Will Graham loves dogs but can’t have them in his apartment. When he gets fired from his job as a dog walker, he turns to walking shelter dogs and bonds with a group of seven misfits. While walking his beloved bunch of shelter dogs he runs into Hannibal. Literally. Little does Will know that Hannibal has been watching Will from afar and wants to give him everything his heart desires, starting with a home and all his dogs from the shelter.





	Diamond in the Ruff

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the amazing Star Kickback, who [provided the art](https://starkickback.tumblr.com/post/186261129279/artwork-for-the-hannigram-reverse-bang-diamond-in) and inspiration for this piece! You can find more of their fabulous work on Tumblr at [Star Kickback](https://starkickback.tumblr.com/). Show them some love!

Will glanced down at his phone again, knowing full well he had the correct address. _Franklyn Froideveaux, Number 17._ The most expensive looking row of Brownstones in the neighborhood and he was rolling up on a second-hand road bike he scored for free from a student moving across the country. He removed his helmet and ran a hand through slightly sweaty curls.

Feeling supremely out of his element but too stubborn to back down, Will approached the luxury townhouse. _Fine. This is fine._ Sure, he would have to pool his entire graduate cohort to even dream of making rent for one of these, but who could put a price on begonias like that? Will shook his head at the absurdity of the situation and locked his bike to the metal handrail of the stoop. He headed up the stairs, resigned to walking some pampered princess of a dog, and punched in the lock box code Franklyn had provided via the app.

Mutt Master might steal 40 percent of his income, but they had really streamlined the dog walking business. Since his own apartment banned dogs and he would rather pull out his own teeth than approach strangers in the park to pet theirs, dog walking was the next best option. And with the app there was almost zero human interaction. Plus, they were paying him? Will couldn’t have designed a more ideal side hustle.

He entered the house and was greeted by a flurry of snorts and squeals as a tan and black pug alternated between jumping up on a metal baby gate and turning in excited circles at Will’s arrival. The comical little dog continued to squawk his excitement as Will approached.

“Wasn’t expecting to walk a gremlin today.” Will mused with a smile at the pleasant surprise. He introduced himself to the overexcited animal, who aggressively snuffled his greeting at the hem of Will’s pants before snorting his approval. “We need to figure out a different name for you though, because I am not yelling out Sir Roquefort du Fromage across a crowded park.”

Kneeling down at pug-level he scratched behind the little dog’s ear and was rewarded with an abundance of hot dog breath as the pug panted heavily up at him. Roquefort’s tongue lolled out of his mouth and he headbutted into Will’s open palm for more contact.

Will rose and quickly reviewed the note Franklyn left about the pug’s quirks. Apparently, his favorite pastimes involved rolling in fresh poop, barking at squirrels, and chasing geese until he required rescue. Will glanced down at the funny little dog at his feet. “How about I call you Cheese? Huh?”

His voice took on a sing-song cadence as he cooed sweet nothings to the little pug and riled him up with a flurry of pets. Will attached the leash and maneuvered the little dog through the open baby gate. “Alright, Cheese. Let’s go show some squirrels who’s boss.”

Cheese pulled at the leash in his excitement and triggered a wheezing fit that only slightly diminished said excitement. Will crouched down to calmingly run his hand down the pug’s back until his breathing evened out.

“Squirrels can wait. Take your time. No dying on my watch Cheesy Wheezy, I need this gig.”

Cheese recovered, and with a snort and a sneeze, they were off.

  
**_____**

Will and Cheese developed a rapport after a couple months of regular walks. And he was emphatically always Cheese in Will’s presence. Because really, who names an adorable little bug-eyed jester like that Roquefort? _A stuffy old monster. That’s who._ Will thought, looking down at the ridiculous little dog at his feet.

They had just finished up their afternoon adventure in scent marking when Will noticed Franklyn’s next-door neighbor exit his townhouse. The man was wearing an impeccably tailored, custom three-piece suit. And Will was sure the suit was custom because in no world was orange and gray plaid available off the rack. Will shook his head in disbelief and hurried Cheese up the steps.

_Is that paisley? Nobody should be able to pull that off. How the fuck is he pulling that off?_

The man embodied a sartorial photo shoot out for a casual stroll. He turned and caught Will staring, the penetrating depth of his gaze sending a bolt of interest straight to Will’s cock.

He felt a flush creep across his cheeks and down his neck as he fumbled with the keys. Just his luck to be caught creeping on the neighbor, who he was most definitely _not_ still tracking in his peripheral vision _thankyouverymuch_. And apparently, he had some sort of latent humiliation kink because while he felt like he might seize up and die on the spot, his dick was doing its damned to see him off with a proper salute. He was simultaneously fumbling with the lock and dying on the inside, when fortune finally smiled upon him and granted access to the home. Will hustled Cheese into the house and slammed the door shut to lean bodily against it with a groan.

“Well, that wasn’t awkward at all.” He sighed and stared down at Cheese, who merely tilted his head and trotted off in the direction of the water bowl, leash dragging behind him.

Will adjusted his jeans and walked stiffly toward the kitchen. He might not know that ashen-haired Adonis’ name, but he sure did cut a pretty figure stark naked in his recurring fantasies. _He could be named Horatio for all I care, I’d still scream it as I rode him dry._

Will groaned and shook his head as if to dislodge the image. He was still half hard, arms spread wide and braced against the kitchen island. Cheese stared up expectantly, waiting to be released from his leash.

“I really, really need to stop creeping on the neighbor of the one steady gig I have.” He confided in Cheese, releasing him from the lead and rewarding his patience with an Organic Peanut Butter Buddy Biscuit. Ignoring Will’s rapidly eroding mental state, Cheese abandoned him to the minefield of his mind and trotted off to the little dog bed.

Will resigned himself to the fact that fantasies were about as close as he would ever get to a certain broad-shouldered neighbor. Because while plenty of porn started with the premise of a starving student just looking to make an extra buck, reality was much nerdier and more socially inept. Compound that with sleep deprivation and crippling imposter syndrome and Will was definitely not anywhere in the same league as tall, dark, and handsome next door.

  
**_____**

Will muscled open the door to the apartment with his shoulder and awkwardly maneuvered his bike into the cramped space. He propped it against the wall as his roommate, Bev, tossed a glance over her shoulder and greeted Will from her place in their small kitchenette.

“You look sweatier than normal.”

Will snorted in response. “Gotta defend the title. Sweatiest Man Alive, three years running.”

“I’ve seen the salt deposits on your shirt collars. No competition.”

“Yeah, you just observe the sheen. I live it.”

“Ok, sweat hog. What gives?”

“I got caught creeping on him again so I rode back at top speed.”

“Him?”

“ _Him_ him.”

“Dr. Sexy M.D.?” She punctuated the question by waggling her eyebrows in his direction.

“We don’t know if he’s a doctor or not. Might be like some big wig in…” Will waived his hands trying to think up a profession that would require a three-piece dress code before finishing lamely. “Finance or something.”

“Well, if you cut up this pile of potatoes, I promise I’m all ears while you pine over Mr. Sexy Esq. from mergers and acquisitions.”

Will washed his hands and, as instructed, scrubbed at a pile of slightly withered potatoes. “Orange and gray plaid.” He stated mid-chop, knowing that Bev would know exactly what, or who, he was referring to. “With paisley. Fucking paisley! Think he’s color blind? Or maybe pattern blind. Is that a thing?”

“No normal human would be able to pull off a look like that, and everybody knows mergers and acquisitions are a buncha heartless sociopaths.” Bev responded as she stirred onions around the pan. “Careful, Will, you might be creeping on a serial killer.”

Will snorted at the absurdity. “Creeping is exactly what I did today. I thought I was being subtle, but damn, that paisley threw me for a loop.”

“It’s probably too much to hope that you smiled like a normal human and introduced yourself?”

Will raised a lone eyebrow and shot Bev an incredulous glare before rolling his eyes and returning to chopping. “Oh, you know me. Died on the inside, freaked on the outside, practically trampled the dog in my attempt to get into the house.”

“That all sounds very on brand.” She replied as Will presented a board of diced potatoes and they fell into companionable silence as she cooked.

Will opened the Mutt Master app to check for any new clients, and was greeted with his smiling profile picture, or at least what passed for smiling. Bev had directed his profile picture photo shoot when he signed up, demanding, “A smile with full teeth, Graham! No, that’s too much teeth. That’s, stop it, that looks like you’re growling. You don’t want to look like one of the dogs you’re walking. Great, now you look like you want to strangle me.”

The result after fifteen minutes of bickering was a strained and vaguely menacing smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but she assured him it was the best of the batch. According to Bev, clients wanted “upbeat,” “friendly,” and “approachable” people to walk their dogs while they were at work, none of which Will would use to describe himself, but if grad school had taught him nothing else by now it was one invaluable lesson: fake it ‘til you make it.

Will noticed a new rating from Franklyn, and wondered why his normally effusive client would update his five-star review. He clicked on the icon and was greeted with a glaring one star. 

> **Dog owners beware!!!**  
>  As you know, trusting someone with both the health of your fur baby and access to your home can be anxiety inducing. I took a chance on Will and was one of his first clients. And because Sir Roquefort du Fromage seemed happy, I have kept him on the past few months. However, it has come to my attention that Will has violated my trust in ways that cannot be repaired. First, he can’t seem to keep himself from hitting on my paramour in my absence, flaunting himself at every opportunity and shamelessly ogling. This is an egregious professional violation and a breach of my trust. Second, Will has been rewarding Roquefort with cheese, which is not on the approved snack list. Cheese this, cheese that, it’s all he can seem to talk about. He seems to enjoy tormenting my poor baby because of his name. Will has betrayed my trust and endangered the health of Roquefort. I recommend that Mutt Master provide Will with a refresher on company policies, provided they keep him on as a contractor at all.

“The fuck?” Will growled, equal parts perplexed and indignant.

“What? What happened?”

“Baseless fucking bullshit is what happened. Who leaves a review like that?” Will made a strangled sound of frustration as he slapped his phone down on the counter, indicating that Bev should read the review.

Despite seeming like a cute and cuddly profession, the dog walking market was cutthroat. Too many contractors and not enough steady work meant most dog walkers would put up with literal hell hounds just to stay employed. With such a glut of contractors, it was hard to find steady work even with a flawless track record. Will was lucky to have found a regular client at all, seeing as most people took advantage of the cheap introductory pricing and ghosted when it expired. A one-star review was hard for experienced walkers to bounce back from, let alone someone new to the gig like him.

“Is he confusing you with someone else? I mean, you’re not exactly the type to be out picking up strange when you should be picking up dog shit.”

“I’m not the type to be picking up strange, period.” Will stole his phone back to seethe at the single star, as if the intensity of his glare could will it away.

“I do call his dog Cheese because come on, I’m not about to start yelling Sir Roquefort du Fromage across the damn park. But I’ve only ever feed his dog the organic shit he buys.”

“How does he even know about that? You think he’s got the place wired?” Bev gasped dramatically. “Maybe he’s watching you in one of those creepy teddy bear nanny cams!”

“What does it matter? I’m ruined. I’ll never walk again.” Will braced his shoulders against the wall and thunked his head back with a resounding thud.

“Alright. That’s not at all overly dramatic. I can see that this calls for the good stuff.” Bev took down ‘the good stuff’ from the cabinet above the fridge. It was cheap bourbon but it didn’t come in a plastic bottle, hence, the good stuff. She poured it into two novelty shot glasses and handed one to Will.

“All I did was love the little gremlin.” Will confessed into his shot as Bev nudged him with her shoulder, in what amounted to a gesture of comfort from her.

She raised her shot glass high to deliver a eulogy with mock solemnity. “RIP Mutt Masters. You stole 40% of my friend’s paycheck but you let him pet dogs, and to be fair, that’s probably how much he’d pay you for the privilege.”

Will quirked a small smile at that and added to the toast. “To Cheese. Because only a pretentious dickbag would name a dog Roquefort.” They clinked their glasses together and Will shot back the liquor, embracing the burn in his chest as a physical embodiment of his disappointment.

  
**_____**

Will glared at the gray chittering menace high in the canopy of trees and tried to regain control over seven dogs very invested in rodent-based threats. The squirrels in this park were ruthless instigators and had no fear of humans or dogs. _Yeah you better stay up there. If I get my hands on you I’ll skin your hide and turn you into a dog bandana._ The squirrel just continued chittering, immune to empty psychic threats from over-stressed grad students.

Will pushed his glasses further up his nose and tried to untangle the seven leashes that had woven together in some sort of unified front against the Great Squirrel Invasion. He had been walking dogs for the local no kill shelter the past couple weeks, after Bev had threatened him with bodily harm if he “kept up with his pity party bullshit.”

After the Franklyn debacle he had been a pariah on the app and couldn’t land a single client. He had even tried contacting customer service about the review, but it was soon apparent that “the customer is always right” clearly translated to “we don’t give a shit about our contractors.” With a heavy heart he deleted his profile, followed closely by the app, and started to develop a worrying daytime TV addiction.

But then he found Diamond in the Ruff, a no kill shelter desperate for volunteers, and now he took his weekly pay in drool, dander, and dog hair. He was back to pinching pennies, and his arteries had to be screaming at the amount of sodium he pumped into them via cheap processed food, but he figured the stress relief from walking dogs probably cancelled that out.

Will’s previous experience with Mutt Master had almost made the shelter worker cry with joy when he introduced himself, because it meant that Will was trained to handle the more problematic pups. Dogs that had never seen a leash, those that fear peed at the slightest provocation, or became leash aggressive. He had been working with his core group of seven misfits for the past couple weeks, trying to get them trained to the point that they would be adoptable. But try as he might, they seemed to regress when he wasn’t around. And while he firmly believed that every dog deserved a loving home, he wasn’t quite sure how he would react when one of his little pack got adopted.

That sentiment even extended to Buster, the terrier currently trying to murder him underfoot by zipping to and fro in an attempt to turn the leashes back into macramé. “Damn it, Buster.” Will grumbled under his breath as he tried to calm the hyperactive little dog.

Ellie, a fluffy poodle mix, picked up on Buster’s manic energy. And as the reigning queen of chaos, let out a series of eardrum-piercing barks. That startled both Will and the chittering menace, which apparently had a death wish as it leapt from the trees to sprint past his pack of dogs.

Will was almost bowled over by Harley the Big Red Dog dashing off in hot pursuit of the squirrel, and he barely managed to hold on to the leashes. Harley’s mad dash spooked the mild-mannered Max, a Bernese mountain dog mix more horse than canine. Thrashing against her leash, Max abruptly pulled in the opposite direction of pack consensus.

As all hell broke loose and Will tried to regain control of the pack, he collided with a stranger who clearly didn’t anticipate being ambushed by a dog leash tripwire. Amid yelps and grunts, Will ended up prone and straddling the leg of someone in a purple suit. His knees were throbbing from impact with the concrete, and his chin was smarting from where it had collided with the stranger’s chest on the way down.

 _Hey, I held on to all their leashes._ His brain provided, not at all helpful in the moment.

Will and the purple-suited man were hopelessly tangled and Will’s mouth-brain connection seemed to be broken as doggie admonishments turned into a litany of apologies. Still babbling, Will glanced up and locked eyes with the stranger.

_Dr. Sexy M.D._

Will sure hoped that didn’t also jump the mouth-brain barrier because he didn’t seem to have conscious control over himself at the moment. He snapped his mouth shut to stop any further words from spewing forth, and averted his gaze as he realized he was essentially dry humping a stranger in the middle of a crowded park. A very sexy stranger that he had been having very improper fantasies about for months now.

He tried and failed to easily extricate himself from the situation, and ended up almost grinding against Dr. Sexy M.D.’s trapped leg. The man was covered in hot coffee, dogs, and flustered grad student. Will could feel a whole-body blush coming over him, as embarrassment turned him a bright red.

The man looked annoyed before his face softened into something akin to recognition and the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a subtly amused smile. Will averted his gaze to see Ellie lapping at the man’s spilled latte. _Vanilla._ His oh so helpful brain provided. By the angle of the leash it was clear she had just crawled across the man’s lap to reach the milky mess, a realization that did nothing to quell his embarrassment.

“Hannibal.” The man stated, breaking the silence.

“Pardon?” Will countered, brain still rebooting.

“Hannibal. My name. We are locked in a fairly intimate embrace, I figured at the least introductions were in order.” That damnably attractive half smile was back again, and Will’s brain had regained higher functioning enough to realize that he really ought to give the poor guy some space. He stumbled back on the heels of his feet to release the prone man—Hannibal—from the confines of his arms.

The entire pack of dogs had disregarded squirrel-related threats and were circled around their mortified dog walker, as if commiserating at the awkward spectacle. Excluding Ellie who was busy slurping away at vanilla-flavored concrete.

“I’m so, so sorry. The squirrels declared war and then Max tried to kill you, and now there’s a dog drinking your coffee.” Will rambled, separating Ellie from her latte and transferring her over Hannibal’s lap to his other side, the first of many steps needed to untangle their wholly inappropriate public park shibari.

Will thought he might have said something to that effect aloud because he heard Hannibal chuckle, and did he concuss himself or something against the man’s chest? _His very broad, sturdy chest._ Because his barriers were down in a way that had never happened, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“I am glad someone enjoyed that coffee. It was too sweet by half.” Hannibal extracted his leg and unwrapped the leash from around his ankle, rising to his feet and extending a hand to help Will right himself. He felt warmth pooling in his chest at the contact, accompanied by a fluttering in his stomach and a flush that had nothing to do with embarrassment.

Will cleared his throat and transferred all the leashes to one hand so he could adjust his glasses and dust off his jeans. “Thanks for being such a good sport about this. Being waylaid by squirrels and dogs probably wasn’t on your list of things to do today.”

Hannibal adjusted his purple suit and ran a hand through his hair. Aside from the dark coffee stain marring the plum wool of his sleeve, he looked as devastatingly flawless as always. He discarded the empty cup in a nearby bin and turned back to Will, who remained rooted to the spot, reluctant to end their interaction.

“Indeed. Perhaps you would allow me to assist, seeing as we are behind enemy lines and have already been accosted.”

Will furrowed his brow in confusion and Hannibal took pity on him. “May I have half the leashes?” He asked, extending an arm in Will’s direction.

Will was stunned into momentary stillness, unsure of what motivated the man in front of him. He wasn’t exactly a paragon of normal, but he knew coming on seven-dogs strong didn’t usually result in an offer of assistance.

 _Who cares! Hand him some leashes!_ It was the most help his scattered brain had been in their short interaction.

“No, yeah. I mean, sure. Yes. Yeah, that would be great.” Will sorted the leashes to hand over three of the more mellow dogs.

“This is Winston, Jack, and Zoe.” He pointed to each in turn as he handed over the leashes to a brindle mutt, a retriever mix, and a small white dog with a comically large underbite. “Winston, Jack, and Zoe, meet Hannibal.”

“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” Hannibal took their leashes and leaned slightly forward to address the dogs. “I am glad to make your acquaintance, though I do not yet know the name of your owner.”

“Will.” He blushed again _honestly, this was getting ridiculous_ and extended his now leash-free hand in Hannibal’s direction. “My name is Will.”

Hannibal captured his hand firmly with his own and caressed the back with his thumb, exacerbating the low-level arousal plaguing Will since he found himself straddling the infuriatingly handsome-and-he-knows-it man. Hannibal released his hand, and the two began to walk back to the shelter.

“A fitting name for someone with the resolve to walk seven dogs solo through squirrel-infested territory.”

It was a charming take on the cliché Will-willpower response to learning his name, and he found himself forgiving whatever game Hannibal was playing with his sly smile and little thumb rub.

“Are they all yours?” Hannibal asked, and Will noted a lack of judgement in the statement, which honestly surprised him. Seven dogs weren’t just a commitment. Seven dogs were a lifestyle. _Do I look like a guy who owns seven dogs?_ He didn’t want an honest answer to that.

“They’re my pack, but they’re not mine. I walk them for Diamond in the Ruff shelter so they aren’t cooped up all day.”

“A laudable pursuit.”

“Something like that. These are the ‘problem children,’ if you couldn’t tell by how they introduced themselves moments ago.”

“They seem perfectly well behaved right now.” Hannibal observed the three dogs walking in front of him as they exited the park before turning toward Will with a conspiratorial smirk. “Must be putting on a good show for company.”

“Don’t let that underbite fool you. Zoe there is hardcore. She’s just buttering you up to go in for the kill.”

“I don’t believe her teeth even occlude. Does she intend to gnaw me to death?”

“Nah.” Will shrugged. “But she’s an opportunist. Be the first to eat your face off if you died.”

Hannibal eyed the little dog skeptically as Will’s brow furrowed and his lips pursed at the realization that he had said something not even close to being appropriate for small talk. _Maybe bring up politics and religion next, any topic has to be better than dropping dead-dog-face-eating into casual conversation._

Will cleared his throat to fill the awkward silence and apologized. “Sorry. That was probably too morbid for polite company.”

“Morbidity and I are well acquainted. Ex-surgeon.”

“Grad student in forensic science.”

Hannibal hummed. “Do you often assess the postmortem proclivities of your pack?”

“After seeing enough crime scenes, it’s second nature to suss out which dogs will lay down next to you and starve when you die versus hitting up the all-you-can-eat buffet. Spoiler, it’s always the little ones.”

Hannibal reached down to stroke Winston’s head. “I suppose you’re one of the good ones.” He confided in the brindle dog who had paused to sniff at a bush. “All face eating aside, they are better for having you in their lives, I’m sure. Someone to show them kindness. Help them heal from past trauma.”

“Or they just know a softie when they see one.” Will gave up on redirecting Buster every other moment, and allowed the little dog to happily piss on a nearby light pole. He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “How do you think I ended up with seven?”

“Compassion is an admirable trait. Particularly for those who cannot advocate for themselves. I wager you would make a good father as well.”

“Uh, I don’t know about that. Didn’t have the best role model.” Will ran an uncomfortable hand over the back of his neck. _Aaand you just insinuating that you have daddy issues. You’re making it weird. Stop making it weird._

The uncomfortable silence stretched as Will’s inner monologue veered off course and he struggled to right the conversation. _Honestly, who brings up kids on the first date? Not that this is a date. Definitely not a date. Just two dudes. Being dudes. Walking dogs._

Hannibal saved Will from the internal meltdown. “You’ve forged a bond with your pack that even a casual observer such as myself can see, regardless of how likely they are to feast upon your corpse.”

“True.” Will conceded, thinking about how much easier it was to be around dogs compared to navigating the incessant barrage of emotions that came from interacting with humans. “Dogs are easy in a way that people aren’t. Their minds are…quieter.”

“Tell me, Will, do you absorb the emotions of others naturally or is it a learned trait?”

Will glanced warily at his walking companion. If he had hackles, they might have bristled at the line of questioning. Instead, he found his mouth twisting in a derisive moue. “Tell me, Hannibal, do you naturally make assumption regarding the mental aptitudes of those around you, or is it a learned trait?”

“Guilty as charged. I study the mind. Psychiatry.”

 _Of course, he’s a psychiatrist._ He internally rolled his eyes so hard they rattled in his skull. _He was too good to be true._

“Newly minted, though I admit my interest in you is decidedly unprofessional.” Hannibal smiled warmly back at Will. “I would apologize for my analytical ambush, but I know I will soon be apologizing again and you’ll tire of that eventually, so I have to consider using apologies sparingly.”

“You seem confident there will be an ‘eventually.’” Will allowed his shoulders, which had reflexively hunched upward, to relax slightly as he met Hannibal’s gaze and judged the man’s candor. “Let’s just say it’s difficult to trust a profession that reduces how you see the world to nothing more than a mental parlor trick.”

“The brain’s dense thicket of interrelationships, like those of history or art, does not yield to the reductivist’s bright blade.”

Will snorted. “You get that from a fortune cookie?”

“Quote a day calendar.” Hannibal winked with a wry smile.

_Charming fucker._

Will wrangled Ellie back into formation after a particularly vigorous fire hydrant sniffing. They were fast approaching the shelter and Will needed to figure out whether Hannibal’s pros _intelligent, dry humor, cheekbones that could cut glass_ outweighed his cons _confident bordering on cocky, low key manipulative, fucking psychiatrist_. Will’s eyes raked over Hannibal’s profile as he gently chastised Zoe for attempting to eat something she found in the street.

He quickly decided that he could overlook Hannibal’s deliberate provocations in their short conversation if it meant getting within kissing distance of that Grecian profile. _Hey, at least he’s interesting._

“The shelter is just ahead. Thanks for your help wrangling the pack. Even though they seemed hell bent on destroying your suit.” Will stepped closer to Hannibal, emboldened by his decision and channeling a bit of Hannibal’s innate confidence. He ran his palm down the length of the man’s arm, as if assessing the damage to his plum suit jacket. When he reached Hannibal’s wrist he lingered momentarily before circling around as if to hold his hand. Hannibal’s breath caught in his throat as Will captured the remaining leashes from his grasp.

He raised an eyebrow in challenge as he caught and held Hannibal’s gaze. “I would be happy to pay for dry cleaning if you gave me your number?”

Hannibal reached into his suit pocket to produce a cream-colored business card trimmed in gold. He slipped the card into the front pocket of Will’s blazer, the tips of his fingers lingering at the contact. His voice was husky when he responded and it did very inconvenient things to Will’s resolve not to jump the guy right then and there. “I do hope to hear from you soon, Will.”

Will wrangled his pack of seven dogs and walked away with just a hint of swagger in his step. He glanced over his shoulder as he entered the shelter and shot Hannibal a smile. _That man might be the death of me. But oh, what a way to go._

  
**_____**

Will slammed the door to the apartment in his haste and stroked a hand over his breast pocket for the umpteenth time, just to ensure that Hannibal’s card was still there. Silent reassurance that their encounter this afternoon had been real.

“Shhhh. They’re about to waive their magic wand and reconstruct what a person looked like from a fragment of DNA left at the crime scene.”

Bev was parked in front some police procedural. Seeing as they were both studying forensic science, they watched a lot of those to harp about the inaccuracies. Will mirrored his roommate and flopped down on the couch. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table and nudged Bev’s foot with his, then again, and again, silently willing her to respond.

“No. Bad dog.” She admonished, resolutely keeping her eyes trained on the screen. “Stop looking at me. For a dude who supposedly hates eye contact you sure did weaponized those puppy dog eyes.”

Will vibrated with impatience and felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin, tapping his foot through the entire big reveal. Vindicated in her prediction that yes, it was the seemingly innocent guy they interviewed at the beginning only to bring him back in the final act, Bev glanced over at Will.

“You’re a hot mess of anxiety. Like, way more than normal. Your advisor chew you out or something?”

“Worse.” Will removed the business card and tossed it into Bev’s lap. _So much worse. The best kind of worse._

“I don’t get it.”

“Dr. Sexy M.D.” Will nearly tripped over his tongue as he blurted out the revelation. “Hannibal is Dr. Sexy M.D.”

Bev’s eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. She slapped Will’s shoulder in incredulity. “Shut. Up. You actually talked to him?”

Will smiled coyly and nodded. He retrieved the business card from Bev and stared at it, a picture of nervous but smitten content.

“Gross. Tell me everything. Right now.”

Will recounted the meeting to Bev’s great amusement, her running commentary and questions helping to quell his anxiety as he decompressed and talked through the encounter.

“I cannot believe you got all in his personal space like that! Who are you and what did you do with the friend who once empathized with a commercial to the point that you had to lock yourself away for like a week?”

“If you feel nothing when an ASPCA ad comes on, I feel like that says more about you than me.”

“We examined near liquidized corpses last week. I still haven’t gotten the smell out of my lab coat.” She waved off his accusation, as if casual exposure to human suffering inured her to emotionally manipulative animal charity ads. They were both a little off. Maybe that’s why they got on.

“I feel like he broke my brain? But in a good way?” Will bit his lip and fingered the raised lettering of the business card, tracing over Hannibal’s name. “His mind was uncluttered, like a dog.”

“First, never say that again. Second, you need to lock this down like now.”

“I have no idea what I’m supposed to do next.”

Will’s relationship experience consisted mostly of drunken hookups, getting so plastered that most of his higher functioning skills went offline. He had tried turning a couple into recurring casual partners, but the power dynamic was always off. He hated the feeling of being cast adrift to drown in his partner’s wants and needs, used and unable to distinguish his own agency.

Will had just met Hannibal, but could already sense a regimented mind. It was a welcome respite to not feel constantly barraged, and staring into Hannibal’s eyes hadn’t immediately swept him away in a deluge of the man’s emotions. It reminded Will of gazing upon the glassy smoothness of an undisturbed lake. Hannibal possessed hidden depths, and Will desperately wanted to delve beneath the surface to see what lurked beyond such fastidious control.

Bev sensed the shift in Will’s mood. “This is about more than just wanting to touch his butt, isn’t it?”

“His butt is very, very touchable.”

“But?”

“ _But,_ yeah. Even in our short interaction I can tell he’s different. I really don’t want to screw this up.” Will whispered the end of the admission as if giving it voice would jinx his chances.

“Listen. You can read people better than anyone. And clearly, he’s giving off all the right cues. Remember Matthew?”

“Ugh. Matthew was a creep.”

“Yeah, a charming duplicitous creep. And you saw through that act and shut him down like a boss.”

Bev snatched the business card from Will’s hand and poked him with the edge as she punctuated her point. “If seven dogs and your awkward ass didn’t send him packing, I think your odds are pretty good.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll suck it up and text him like an adult.”

“No phone call?”

“Rude. Nobody uses their phone for that anymore.” Will grabbed the card back from Bev and unlocked his phone.

She hopped up and walked around the back of the couch. “I’m gonna go see if I can stalk him online! I want to see if his suits are as bad as you claim.”

“Ugh. They’re worse. And he somehow manages to looks fucking edible in every one of them. Now get out of here. I can’t flirt with someone looking over my shoulder.”

“I’ll leave you to it then, lover boy!”

  
**_____**

Will rolled up to the row of Brownstones he had stalked regularly several months back. _Cheese just really liked that tree out front. Not my fault he watered it like clockwork._ He nervously glanced over at Franklyn’s house and hoped that he wouldn’t encounter that infuriating man, even if it would be nice to see his cheddar-headed pup.

Will locked up his street bike, nervously righted his blazer and fluffed his hair, hoping that the helmet hadn’t done too much damage on the ride over. He grabbed his messenger bag and had what he considered only a minor meltdown as he made his way up the stairs, each step exponentially increasing his anxiety to the point where he reached the top and just stood outside of Hannibal’s door, staring at it blankly.

After what felt like ten minutes of inaction, but was probably closer to 30 seconds, Will gathered his courage and knocked sharply. An apron-bedecked Hannibal greeted him. _Of course he looks good in an apron._ Will found himself almost disappointed that the man was not dressed in his normal three-piece suit, but certainly wasn’t complaining about the crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows.

“Good evening, Will. I hope you found the place without incident.”

Will was caught between a smile and confusion as he wondered how to answer. They hadn’t discussed it in the park, but he wasn’t exactly subtle in his gawking as Franklyn’s dog walker. And he was sure that he’d mentioned something about it when texting. Did Hannibal really not recognize him? Or was this another one of his weird little manipulations? Caught between two reactions, he settled on the most direct line of questioning.

“Of course I found the place okay. I walked Franklyn’s dog for months. Do you really not recognize me from that?”

Hannibal tilted his head in consideration, narrowing his eyes in Will’s direction. He pursed his lips before continuing. “I will admit to taking a bit more care with my appearance every Tuesday and Thursday, several months back. Not that it had anything to do with a curly haired muse to Botticelli who would prance by my front window. Such an angelic vision certainly wouldn’t have allowed a ridiculous little dog to pee on my flower bed twice weekly.”

Will huffed a small laugh. “Well, I’m certain that muse didn’t prance so much as saunter. And that he wasn’t at all interested in gawking at the sartorial fashion choices of the little dog’s handsome next door neighbor. So many patterns at once. Like staring at a car crash, he just couldn’t look away.”

Hannibal smiled fully at Will’s gentle teasing, much broader and more encompassing than the previous smirks and restrained half smiles. “I will confess, Will, I was nervous running into you at the park. I was not exactly discreet in my appraisal of you.”

Will barked out a short laugh. “I think you’re more discrete than you know. That or I’m just incredibly oblivious. Surely you caught me staring once or twice.”

“Or more than twice.” Hannibal quirked a smile as he led Will toward the kitchen. “I was pleased to run into you after you had all but disappeared from the neighborhood.”

Will rolled his eyes and shook his head lightly. “The disappearing act wasn’t exactly by choice.”

“What happened?”

“I’m still not entirely sure. One day, after you wore a ridiculous—”

Hannibal interrupted Will to interject. “Devastatingly fashionable, I’m sure you meant to say.”

Will removed his messenger bag and tossed it in the armchair off to the corner. “Right. Devastating—your words—gray and orange suit, I went home and saw that Franklyn had left a one-star review. Said I was hitting on his ‘paramour.’” Will punctuated the offensive word with overly aggressive air quotes. “And that I was feeding his dog cheese, wherever he got that from.”

“Oh dear.” Hannibal turned from his position at the stove to look at Will. “I fear I may have been the cause of your dismissal.”

“What do you mean?” A dawning look of realization crossed his face. “Oh no, _you_ were Franklyn’s paramour?”

“I think not.” Will wished he had a camera at the ready to capture the look of affront on Hannibal’s face. “Rather, the object of his obsessive attention. That day he cornered me and I interrupted his diatribe on gourmet grocers by asking for the contact information of the man who walked Cheese.”

“Hold on. You called him Cheese?”

“Well, you had been referring to him using all manner of dairy-based endearment. You talk to him more than I think you’re aware. At first, he seemed excited that I might have acquired a dog, but when I admitted that it was you who had captured my eye. Well, to say he took it poorly is an understatement.”

Will’s eyes twinkled as Hannibal confessed his long-standing infatuation and all the pieces slotted into place. “I can’t believe it. You know, that cost me a pretty lucrative side gig. You have no idea how much ramen I’ve eaten in the months since I was all but fired from Mutt Master.”

“I sincerely apologize. Hopefully you let me make it up to you?”

Will hummed as if weighing the offer, and rustled through his messenger bag to produce an intricate, gold wrapped package. “Fine. But I’m keeping these chocolates.”

“Chocolates?”

“I couldn’t think of anything to bring with that would complement bone marrow—weird dish to try and pair with anything by the way.” _And probably another one of your little tests._ “But chocolate? Everyone likes chocolate.”

“That’s very thoughtful.”

“Correction— _was_ very thoughtful.” Will teased with a devious grin. He tossed the gold-wrapped package back onto the chair and walked over to see what the man was preparing.

Hannibal quirked a smile at Will’s defiance and conceded. “ _Was_ thoughtful.”

“I’m still going to eat your fancy dinner too. And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll have you for dessert. That might help make up for everything.”

Hannibal’s voice dropped low as he raised a flirtatious eyebrow in Will’s direction. “I accept your terms.”

Will was desperately fighting the urge to verbalize his thoughts: _Fuck dinner and take me right here and now, you lovely, infuriating man._ Instead he settled for, “Can I help with anything?”

“Would you like to pour the wine? It's aerating on the counter. You’ll find the glasses in the dining room.”

Will moved to retrieve the glasses, barely smothering the incredulous huff of laughter as he took in the table centerpiece. Succulents mingled with thorns and small mammal skulls, punctuated by bright spindly flowers that Will didn’t have a chance in hell of identifying but look like insects. The overall effect was delightfully unsettling, and reminded him of the beetles they used to deflesh skulls in the lab.

He retrieved the wine glasses and poured them both a measure perhaps a little more generous than appropriate for polite company.

“Sorry. Little heavy on the pour.”

Hannibal accepted the offered glass and swirled his red before inhaling the scent. Will watched the ritual and mimicked the steps.

“To indulgences.”

Hannibal locked eyes with Will as he toasted and took a deep draw from his glass. The wine may have warmed its way down Will’s throat, but Hannibal’s gaze was doing far more to ignite a fire.

Will redirected his brain away from dangerous territory. He had promised to eat Hannibal’s fancy dinner after all. “That’s an, uh, interesting centerpiece. The flowers look like insects laying siege to little skulls.”

“An interesting association. Related to your studies?”

“Maybe. My thesis is on estimating time of death based on insect activity. Let’s just say I’ve seen a lot of creepy crawlies moving in and out of skulls.” Will took a seat on the stool at the kitchen island to observe Hannibal at work.

“Those creepy crawlies are brassia caudata, spider orchid. Their petals mimic the long and spindly legs of a spider to trick spider-hunting wasps into stinging and ideally cross-pollinating the flower.”

As Hannibal spoke he began to artfully arrange a series of ingredients on the plate. Roasted slivers of tricolor carrots fanned out, topped with halved dates, roasted pistachios, and crumbly white cheese. A splash of yellow sauce finished the dish.

“Brown butter roasted carrot salad with preserved lemon vinaigrette.” Hannibal removed his apron and moved around the kitchen island with a plate in each hand.

“Normally I would recommend that we move to the dining room, but this seems more intimate.” He took the seat next to Will, sitting close enough to almost brush elbows. “Bon appétite.”

Will arranged the components on his fork and began to consume the small salad, occasionally letting out a wholly unexpected hum of appreciation, and once to his mortification, an audible moan. “Hannibal.” Will set down his fork and turned to his dining companion.

Hannibal reached over to cup Will’s chin, moving his thumb across the corner of Will’s mouth to collect a drop of rogue sauce. “There was more appreciation in your nonverbal enjoyment than any flowery praise could convey.”

Hannibal brought the sauce-dotted thumb back to his mouth and made a show of savoring the vinaigrette. “Delicious.”

Will’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as felt himself harden at Hannibal’s boldness. “Dinner and a show on both our parts.” He was reluctant to tear his eyes away from the man’s lips even after the sauce had been consumed.

Hannibal’s voice came out gravelly and rich, clearly affected by Will’s open appraisal of him. “Please, refill our wine while I plate the main course?”

Will tried to stifle his flush of arousal, made worse by the very good wine. As he topped off their glasses, he became caught up in watching Hannibal swirl an arc of sauce onto two plates with an efficient half-circle motion. “This pageantry is really a thing for you, isn’t it?”

“Food is more than fuel. A meal is an opportunity to indulge the senses.”

Will hummed in consideration and sipped thoughtfully at his wine. “I suppose, although you’re talking to a guy who eats most of his meals standing over the sink or seated in front of the television.”

Hannibal tutted in dismay and turned to address Will. “You’ll have to let me spoil you more often.” He arranged roasted, halved marrow bones alongside the swirl, spooned the sautéed chanterelle mushrooms on top and finished with a sauce made with pink peppercorns and parsley.

“After eating that last course, I’ll gladly accept anything you want to spoil me with.”

Hannibal smiled deviously at the admission and brought over a tray of thickly sliced crusty bread and a bottle of olive oil that he drizzled over the slices before sprinkling them with salt. “I intend to hold you to that, dear Will.”

He turned before Will could unpack the full meaning of that assertion and returned bearing two plates. “Bone marrow two ways. Roasted with chanterelles and pink peppercorns, served alongside a bordelaise and marrow sauce.”

Will moaned around a bite of the marrow he had spooned atop the bread. “It’s like butter. I was going to say this is almost too pretty to eat but after that bite…” Will trailed off, diverting his attention to the dish.

“Its beauty is ephemeral, meant to be consumed.” Hannibal dredged his bread through the red wine sauce before arranging a forkful of marrow and mushrooms atop, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the flavors. “By consuming we absorb and transform its essence.”

“Consumption as a tribute to beauty.”

“It lives in us now.”

Will quirked an eyebrow in Hannibal’s direction. “I guess I’m just glad you practice this with food instead of people.”

“My dear Will, there is more than one way to consume a person.” Hannibal’s gaze was dark and promising as he leaned into Will’s space, eyes locked on his lips, glistening with marrow and deep red from the wine.

“Is that an offer? Or a suggestion?” Will’s pupils were blown wide with lust as he reached up to cup Hannibal’s cheek, intent on finding out. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had kissed him like this. No awkward first date fumblings or sloppy drunken mauling. Kissing Hannibal felt exactly as he had claimed, like being consumed. But instead of taking all of Will, overwhelming his senses until he couldn’t parse his intent and desire from his partner’s, Hannibal was giving back. It felt like an act of worship, and Will was hungry for more.

He crowded Hannibal’s space, hand snaking around the back of the man’s head to free soft ash-brown strands from the product used to hold them in place. Then straddled the corner of his chair, angling into Hannibal’s space as he pulled him into another kiss.

He pulled back to search Hannibal’s face. All of his time spent imagining this moment, and it was staring straight at him with a breathless look of hunger.

“I believe I was promised dessert?” Hannibal managed to get out between sharp, exploratory nips tracing the contour of Will’s jaw.

Will threw his head back and huffed a laugh. “Were you?” He tamped down his growing arousal enough to remove himself from Hannibal’s proprietary grasp. “I think I said it was my intention to have you for dessert.”

He rose and stepped between Hannibal’s legs, which splayed open to accommodate him. He laid both hands against the man’s chest and traced planes of muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt, before pivoting the stool and pressing Hannibal’s back against the kitchen island.

“That is, if dessert is still on the menu?” Will breathed the question into Hannibal’s mouth through kisses, as he reached down to unbuckle Hannibal’s belt one-handed.

“Please, help yourself.” Hannibal teased with a smirk before losing his composure as Will worked his hand into his pants to cup him through silk boxers. He groaned out breathy encouragement, lightly thrusting into the heel of the other man's hand.

Will continued to stroke at Hannibal’s length through the boxers before rucking up Hannibal’s shirt with his other hand to catch a glimpse of his hard cock tenting the silk. He groaned at the sight. “You’re always so put together. I want to see you come undone.”

Hannibal canted his hips upward and allowed Will to drag the boxers down to release his cock. Will dropped to his knees and nuzzled against Hannibal’s length, inhaling the musky, sharp scent of his arousal.

He grasped Hannibal’s cock and stroked lazily as he hummed with satisfaction. “I want to consume you.” Will mocked Hannibal’s words before running his tongue up the length of the man’s cock from root to tip. He locked eyes with Hannibal as he teased the foreskin back with his tongue to swirl his tongue around the head of his cock.

“Wicked thing.” Hannibal gasped in response. He tangled his fingers in Will’s hair and fought against the urge to thrust as Will laved attention on Hannibal’s cock, using one hand to stroke what he couldn’t fit in his mouth. “You undo me.”

Will pulled off and looked up at Hannibal. “Not doing well enough if you’re still capable of speech.” He grinned before redoubling his efforts, taking Hannibal deep and swallowing as he hit the back of his throat.

Hannibal’s brow furrowed and his mouth dropped open in a breathy gasp as he felt his cock throb at the sensation. Will was slowly driving him mad with his mouth and hands, moving up until he almost pulled off before descending down to swallow him again. Hannibal groaned as Will rolled his balls in the palm of his hand and stroked at his perineum, using excess saliva to slick against the drag.

The curly haired angel between his thighs glanced up, his lips stretched wide around Hannibal's girth and reflexive tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. Hannibal cupped a hand around Will’s chin and stroked at the nape of his neck.

“Beautiful.” Will looked like a supplicant in worship, but despite that image Hannibal was sure those roles were reversed. He would give Will any and everything his heart desired.

Hannibal felt his core muscles begin to tense, signaling his imminent release and he grasped at Will’s shoulder to warn him. “Close.”

Will reached around to cup Hannibal’s ass and urged him forward until he was fucking into his mouth. In a couple of thrusts Hannibal came with a groan and Will felt his hot release flood down the back of his throat.

He sucked lightly as Hannibal rode out his orgasm and swirled his tongue around the head of his cock as he pulled off, delighting in the over-sensitized tremble as he released the man.

He wiped his mouth of excess saliva before rising to his feet. The doctor was still blissed out from his orgasm, pants pooled at midthigh and shirt rucked up around his waist. “You look positively debauched, Dr. Lecter.” Will tucked him back into his boxers and did up the fly with a self-satisfied grin.

With a growl, Hannibal pounced on Will and captured his mouth, stealing that smug comment from his tongue. He tore at Will’s jeans and boxers to release his cock and took him in hand, angling so Will was trapped between Hannibal and the kitchen island.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this. Since the first time I laid eyes on you, walking that ridiculous little pug, unruly mess of curls catching the afternoon sun.” Will groaned as Hannibal savaged his throat with sucking kisses and whispered confessions.

Hannibal reached for the bottle of olive oil near the bread and tipped it to drench his palm. He reached down to trace the hot length of Will’s cock, eliciting a throaty gasp as Will clutched at him and thrust into his tight, slick fist. “Fuck. Hannibal. Please.”

“You were haloed. A sun god. And I your willing supplicant. Wishing only for you to grace my mortal presence with the entirety of your attention.” He switched hands, still stroking Will’s cock as his oiled fingers moved beneath to tease at the cleft of Will’s ass and massage his hole.

“Do you know how it feels to be the center of a god’s attention, Will?” He felt Will’s ass cant backwards to press against his digits, encouraging Hannibal to go deeper.

“Yes. You. Just now.” With each confession Hannibal penetrated Will a bit more, moving deeper as Will rocked forward into his fist and backward onto his finger until he sunk down to the webbing and began to stroke Will from the inside.

“You looking up at me, your mouth wrapped around my cock. I, basking in the attention you laved upon me. Greedy for any and everything you give.”

Will’s breath hitched at the onslaught of Hannibal’s words, the physical sensation of both fucking and being fucked almost overwhelming in its intensity. He groaned as he felt Hannibal alternate between teasing strokes and firm pressure.

“I would shower you in sacramental offerings, do anything to hold that attention.” Hannibal punctuated his confession with sucking bruises to Will’s neck. “Anything to be worthy of continuing to worship at your altar, my sun god.”

“Fuck yes.” Will keened, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes from clenching them so tight. He felt as elemental as Hannibal had described him, the two points of contact lighting him aflame.

Hannibal made small circles with the pad of his finger and increased pressure on Will’s prostate. “Anything.”

“God! Hannibal!” Will clung to Hannibal’s shoulder and braced himself against the counter in an attempt to remain upright. His legs shook as he threw his head back with a cry.

“Everything.” Hannibal attacked his neck again in worship as Will fell apart in his arms.

Will’s climax built until he could feel it ripple through his abdomen. He clenched tight around Hannibal’s finger and released hot over his fist in waves of blinding pleasure. Hannibal stroked him through his release until Will began to squirm with the first licks of oversensitivity.

Hannibal stilled and brought his hand up to lick it clean as he locked eyes with Will, causing the other man to moan and clench again around his still inserted finger. Hannibal withdrew and wiped his hand against the cloth napkin.

“That was, wow.” Will stated, slowly coming back to himself.

“It was indeed, wow.” Hannibal huffed a laugh as he wiped Will clean of excess oil and helped him right his clothing.

Will leaned heavily back against the kitchen counter as the strength in his legs returned to him. “I didn’t take you as one for kitchen sex.”

“You drive me to temptation, wicked thing.” Hannibal gathered Will in his arms and stole a kiss from Will who was smiling too much for the contact to be much more than a chaste peck composed mostly of teeth.

“You call me wicked? I feel like you gnawed a collar around my neck, you cannibal.”

“You’ve discovered my secret.” Hannibal stage whispered. “The olive oil was to enhance your flavor profile.”

“Seasoned from the inside out.”

Hannibal darted in to nip at Will’s ear. “You’re delectable as is.”

“No bite!” Will exclaimed in mock outrage, as if chastising one of his unruly pack members. Hannibal snapped his teeth together with a growl and grinned at the man wrapped in his arms.

“I don’t recall that admonishment moments earlier. Perhaps remedial lessons are in order.”

“I am very good with unruly beasts.”

“I place myself at your mercy.”

“Don’t worry. I’m a benevolent god.” Will grinned and pulled Hannibal into a kiss. “Mostly.”

  
**_____**

After the intensity of their first coupling, Will tried to initiate a very awkward conversation about Hannibal’s oddly possessive streak that had manifested in the heat of the moment. But he was stymied first in the shower when it felt like Hannibal had literally sucked his brains out through his dick, and then the next morning as he rode Hannibal dry to a litany of praise that reduced him to a similar nonverbal state.

Will was nothing if not good at avoidance, and he had to admit that being the center of Hannibal’s attention was kind of addictive. The man did nothing in half measures and if he was intent to worship Will, far be it from him to deny a willing supplicant.

And then the gifts started to creep their way into his life, which made Will wildly uncomfortable. _Who buys someone a $2000 Brompton folding bike to celebrate a one-month anniversary? A fucking crazy person, that’s who._ Granted, it was nice to retire Will’s “vintage by circumstance, not choice” rust bucket hand-me-down, but his inner poor kid who had fought tooth and nail to pull himself out of the cycle of poverty still bristled at the imposition. _At least it wasn’t a fucking car._ Will thought he’d probably wait until at least a one-year anniversary before pulling such a stunt.

If it weren’t for Bev’s near constant loop of affirmations that he deserved nice things and a boyfriend intent on seeing his worth, he may have freaked out and called it off with Hannibal after the bike incident. Naturally, such advice was delivered in her own brand of tough love via text message after she got sick of what he would characterize as serious contemplation— _definitely not whining, Beverly._

“Listen up. You’ve snagged yourself a golden god damned goose, so get that chip off your shoulder and realize there are more ways to show affection that fucking you senseless and whispering sweet nothings. He’s buying you things because he L-words you. Is it too soon for L-wording? Idk, but plz pass on my Amazon wish list at Christmas! XOXO, love ya, Graham cracker.”

As much as he disliked the ostentatious show of wealth, Will was starting to warm up to gift-giving as a show of affection, or at least he was willing to chalk it up as a character defect he was willing to work around. Lord knows he brought his own special blend of neuroses to the relationship that Hannibal seemed willing to accommodate.

By all measures, Will’s life was going pretty damn well. Which made him incredibly anxious.

Because the ole Graham luck did not allow for unchecked goodness in his life. As far back as he could remember it seemed like his family had some sort a karmic debt it was stuck paying off in perpetuity. And between the mind-blowing sex, extravagant gifts, and the genuine connection he was cultivating with Hannibal, Will was most certainly writing karmic checks his ass couldn’t cash.

Sure enough, the next time he showed up to walk his dogs, he was disappointed to see only four tails wagging upon his arrival. Winston, Jack, and Zoe had been adopted out. The shelter coordinator did her best to assure him that they went to good homes, but Will was on autopilot and found himself incapable of much more than a canned “that’s great, yeah, every dog deserves a home!” pitched a little too high to be truthful.

He tried to adapt to the new pack dynamics, but even Buster’s antics and Ellie’s manic brand of love couldn’t do much to dig him out of the funk of losing the three best behaved dogs in his pack to god knows where. The worst part was nobody was even around for him to complain to, with Hannibal away at a conference and Bev immersed in her internship.

To avoid the funk he was slipping into, he draped himself head to toe in obscenely comfortable loungewear (gifted by Hannibal) and distracted himself by arguing with people on Reddit about cold cases. Which worked, at least until the next time he showed up to Diamond in the Ruff and three more of his pack had been adopted out. That just left Buster. Buster who couldn't be adopted out before being treated for pinworms. “And someone was interested in adopting him too, wasn't that just great?”

Will practically saw red when the shelter worker delivered the news and decided then and there that a wormy Buster was better than no Buster. 

So, he filled out the paperwork to adopt the terrible little terrier on the spot. They even let him treat Buster from home since he’d already signed over any liability for pinworm exposure in his volunteer paperwork.

Thus, began Operation Buster, in which Will proceeded to hide the little dog from both Bev and his landlord for the rest of the week. He started with short visits to his own apartment, before admitting that the walls were way too thin for advanced dog subterfuge, particularly when the dog in hiding seemed intent on barking at the wind along with any and everything the wind touched. That’s when he started spending most of his time in Hannibal’s empty place, letting the little dog have the run of the obscenely large house when he was around and corralling him in the ridiculously spacious finished basement when he wasn’t.

So far, Buster had destroyed about a dozen stuffed toys in an attempt to viciously divest them of their squeakers. But, provided Will continued to supply him with new sacrificial offerings, the little dog seemed content to keep his destruction limited to chew toys.

_And thank fuck for that, because how on earth am I going to explain the presence of Buster, let alone the destruction of some priceless antique. The man could fill a blowout episode of Antiques Roadshow with what was in the foyer alone._

And then the moment of truth arrived. Hannibal let himself in after _finally_ returning from his business trip and was greeted by a flurry of barks and a little dog leaping up onto his trousers. Will eagerly tracked his reaction and was surprised when he looked almost relieved to see Buster?

“Hello my tenacious little friend.”

“I can’t tell if you’re talking to me or Buster.” Will joked nervously, voice pitched a bit higher than normal.

“Beloved.” Hannibal drew Will into a tight embrace and nuzzled at his hair, heedless of the little menace trying to insert himself between them. “Even Buster is jealous of how you have captivated me with nothing more than a look.”

Will melted into Hannibal’s arms with a content sigh. It felt good to hear Hannibal’s brand of overly romanticized sweet talk again.

“I missed you.” Will mumbled the confession into the juncture of Hannibal’s neck and shoulder as he peppered it with kisses.

“So much so that you stole Buster away in the dead of night to snuggle with him in my absence?”

Will chuckled and moved to help Hannibal with his luggage. “There was no dog-napping. You’re looking at the new owner of one Buster T. Bonzo, professional squirrel wrangler and menace to stuffed animals everywhere.”

“What does the ‘T.’ stand for?”

“The.”

“Naturally.”

“I’ve been maybe kinda sorta spending most of my time here and putting him up in your basement when I’m gone?” The confession spilled from Will in a rush of words, which released a floodgate as the disappointment over losing his pack of shelter mutts bubbled to the surface.

“And by maybe kinda sorta I mean yes absolutely have. And I’m sorry. And I know I’m begging for forgiveness and not permission. And I totally understand that this is a violation of your trust that I didn’t tell you sooner over the phone. I swear he’s only eviscerated dog toys and hasn’t even had any accidents. He tried to get frisky with a throw pillow once but I immediately laundered and removed the temptation.”

Hannibal’s eyebrows had raised at the onslaught of words, a bemused smile beginning to creep onto his expression.

“He was just so sad at the shelter. And he was in quarantine. And all of his packmates were gone. And I kind of freaked out after the entire pack of dogs _my dogs_ just up and disappeared. Only Buster was left, and if they hadn’t let me adopt him I may have resorted to dog-napping and claimed temporary insanity.”

Will ceased his pleading as Hannibal scooped Buster up off the floor to scratch behind his ears. “There is nothing to forgive, Will. I knew full well that accepting you into my life came with a great deal of dog hair. I made my peace with this long ago. Does this mean you’re taking me up on my offer of moving in?”

Will felt his heart swell at Hannibal’s declaration and warmth spread through his chest. He was brimming with emotion over how easily the man he loved had accepted a surprise Buster. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead but there’s no way I can keep him at my apartment, so...double surprise?”

Hannibal kissed the worry lines away from Will's face. “Nothing would make me happier.”

“You have no idea what a weight that is off my shoulders. This…it just really means a lot. You really mean a lot. I promise I’ll try and be better at accepting your unexpected gestures after putting you in such a position.”

Hannibal cooed a few foreign words into Buster’s ear as Will leaned in to hug him, squishing Buster in the process. The little dog squirmed in protest and almost leapt from his arms, totally killing the mood. 

“Let me take you and Buster for a drive through the countryside this afternoon. We can picnic and he can show off his squirrel wrangling credentials.”

“Are you sure? I mean you just got back from a trip, you must want to unpack, relax.”

“I can think of no better way to do so than with the ones I love.”

Will smiled broadly at that declaration and took Buster from Hannibal’s arms. “Okay. How about I pack the car and get Buster settled and you handle the picnic side of things? Knowing me I would mistake the mortadella for capicola or the prosecco for cava and that would just ruin everything.”

Hannibal slapped Will’s ass as he turned to flee the kitchen after teasing the man. “Wicked thing. Why do I put up with you?”

“You love me.”

“Entirely.”

  
**_____**

Will had to admit that the drive out was beautiful and relaxing once Buster lost interest in trying to bite the passing air outside his window and curled up to take a nap. He eased back into his seat as the urban sprawl became more and more rural, before drifting into a light doze after assuring Hannibal he was just going to rest his eyes for a minute. He awoke to the man he loved threading a hand through his hair and turned inward to nuzzle at his open palm.

“Come, beloved. Buster is already running rampant and I fear for any squirrel that dares to cross his path.”

“Tell him to be nice to squirrels.” Will sleepily replied from the twilight state before full awakening. “They’re matchmakers.”

Hannibal laughed lightly and stroked Will’s cheek as his eyes fluttered open. Outside the car he could hear Buster’s excited bark, but he was sure his brain was playing tricks on him, because that ear-piercing yap sounded an awful lot like Ellie. Will rubbed the sleep from his eyes in confusion.

“What’s going on? Hannibal? Is that Ellie? Please tell me you didn’t do something crazy like track down her new owner on the phone while I was sleeping and offer an obscene amount of money for her.”

“Not quite.” Hannibal took Will by the hand and lead him around the car toward a gated yard where Buster was dodging and weaving, sprinting at top speed around his dog friends from the shelter.

Will was speechless and tears welled up in his eyes at the sight of pure doggie joy. Winston was the first to spot him and took off in his direction with a sharp woof, tongue lolling out of his mouth. The rest of the dogs’ ears perked up at the sound and they followed his lead, practically tackling Will as he dropped to his knees to dole out belly rubs and random words of affirmation to the pups he had missed so much.

“As much as I don’t ever want this to end, what’s going on?”

Hannibal had been watching the happy reunion from a few steps back, offering overflow pets to the pups. He approached Will and withdrew a key from his pocket, pressing it into Will’s hand before cupping his own around it. “It needn’t end, beloved. They’re yours. I’m yours. It’s all yours. If you’ll have us.”

Will looked down at the cool metal key and then up at the beautiful two-story white home. It was as if Hannibal had plucked the modern farmhouse from his mind, from the acreage to the barn, to the front porch where he could see himself surrounded by dogs and relaxing with a bourbon after a long day.

 _Hannibal, you absolute asshole. This is so much bigger than a bike. Or even a surprise Buster_.

“So what, you own this place?”

“Among others. I thought it safer than the cliffside home with so many dogs.”

“Among others? There’s more? Wait, don’t answer that. What about the dogs?” Will’s wide-eyed expression warred between wonder at being offered a life beyond his wildest dreams, and utter confusion over why he wasn’t more resistant to this ready-made life being dropped in his lap.

“I had to call in some favors from various friends to adopt so many from the shelter at once. I was hoping you would take pity on my subpar animal husbandry skills and help me raise them. They have been restless with no one but a trainer on site to care for them.”

“A live-in trainer?”

“Of course not. Don’t be absurd, Will.” Hannibal quirked a half smile as Will’s eyes widened at the accusation that _he_ was the absurd one. “The workload is split between two trainers in a morning and evening shift.”

“Oh, right. Two trainers. And I’m the absurd one.”

Hannibal continued with his explanation. “The barn has been modified to act as a kennel, and I think you’ll be delighted by the agility course.”

Will removed his glasses to rub at the corners of his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Jesus, Hannibal. I can’t even begin to fathom the cost of all this. This is crazy. You realize that, right? You’re absolutely certifiable.”

Hannibal looked unperturbed at the accusation. “Likely, yes.”

Will barked out a laugh and closed the space between them to gather Hannibal in his arms. “Okay. Well in that case, I guess I’m crazy too. Because as absolutely insane as this is—and don’t think we’re done talking about this absurdity—I don’t want to give any of this up.”

“This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.” Hannibal whispered earnestly, locking eyes with the man he loved.

“It’s beautiful.” Will replied as he leaned his forehead against Hannibal’s before pulling back with a mischievous look. “Come on. Let’s christen the place while they’re still distracted. Maybe start with the kitchen?”

“Anything for you, beloved.”


End file.
